walking gets too boring when you learn how to fly
by withoutaim
Summary: in the royal city of rabanastre, vaan is a clean cut street rat; vaan-centric, balthier/vaan pre-slash


title; walking gets too boring when you learn how to fly  
rating; light r  
fandom; final fantasy xii  
warnings; some language, some violence,  
genre(s); gen/pre-slash  
character(s)/pairing(s); pre-slash balthier/vaan (vaan-centric), penelo, balthier, fran, kytes  
word count; 2.304  
spoilers; not for much, au.  
disclaimer; nope. don't own a thing here.  
notes; been lurking for about a year in the fandom, only came around to writing fic now, haha. This is a slight au, with Vaan meeting Balthier and Fran before the actual game. Title from shakira's _gypsy_! It's unbetad as of now, so any mistakes are mine.

summary;_ i might steal your clothes and wear them if they fit me_

* * *

In the city of Rabanastre, Vaan is a clean cut street rat.

Dirty, young, cocky and could steal any apple or piece of bread from underneath the nose of the owner without thinking twice about it.

He knows the streets, alley ways, sun bleached backs of the houses and pavement like his own life lines. He probably knows them better, than his palm.

He's got a lousy _I'm very innocent officer_ face, a chipped tooth and a grin that could be both blinding and blindingly infuriating.

Playing dice with the other rats in their own quarters soon gets boring for Vaan, because Penelo's disapproving eyebrow that disappear up her forehead, and accusing stare burns holes in his back whenever he uses loaded dice and cheats himself to a few gil.

Whenever the rain pushes through the rotting planks and fallen in roofs of their current house, he grabs Penelo by the wrist and goes searching until they find a new place.

Sometimes he likes to venture down to the sewers, sometimes with Kytes, and hunt rats. It's a wry, ironic play out of his own life, in a way, but he never thinks about that.

It's just fun to hunt rats, sometimes, is all. And when they're all dead, all morbidly sinking to the bottom of the water stream, Vaan can tell himself he's finally ready for the desert (it's at least thrice a week he tells himself so)

Other times, he helps Migelo out. Running errands around the city, down and pressed to alley walls when he's gotten sniffed out by an imperial that's somehow always on his trail, doing all kinds of things.

Penelo comes with him a lot, can't say no to the bangaa, been their biggest aid since they were kids and getting thinner by the day from not getting enough nourishment.

But most of all, Vaan's just a regular dreamer. Enjoys most of all to look skywards, and line out his future. Because one day, he'll be the king of those skies.

One day, Vaan'll be a sky pirate.

All the people who frown at him and call him a rat just don't know it yet.

* * *

"You'll never catch me!" Vaan shouts, defiant, voice echoing amidst all the people out, feet rapping noisily against the cobblestone streets as he takes off.

The sun'd been getting to him, making sweat sticky at his upper lip, his fingers shaky from not drinking anything for hours.

But even Vaan was better than dipping his head down in the sewers or waterways.

"You just wait, boy!" comes the shouted reply, but Vaan grins, feeling victorious already, speeding off into a side way street.

Vaan agrees with himself that this is how life is supposed to feel – sun lapping at his skin, combining with the rush of air hitting his cheeks. Adrenaline is coursing noisily through him, and his lungs are starting to hurt from too little breath at too high speed.

Vaan is feeling alive and maybe if flying feels remotely like this – he knows it will, it'll be so much better than this – then he won't want to ever come down again, when he becomes a sky pirate.

Penelo is waiting for him at Migelo's when the sun sets.

She's got streaks of worry in her brow, and in the way her shoulders are tense and her arms crossed over her chests, when Vaan first sights her.

Vaan knows (can be bit proud of the fact, as well) that he's well known around the blocks. Imperials talk travelling down among the rats, around low town because they've got no better to talk about themselves.

Vaan's high on their list of irritating specks of dirt on their report ins.

"Shoulda seen it, Penelo, it was beautiful," he reenacts, thoughts unraveling as he loops an arm around her waist and walks towards temporary home.

She smiles, secretly, but Vaan feels it against his cheek anyway.

Neither has any food for tonight, but they're fine.

* * *

Vaan's got nothing to do today, with the rain pouring down the streets, making the rats hide away in their dry recesses, and the waterways churn up on the banks.

Most of the buying stands are packed together, and rain pools noisily in the occasional empty barrel that still stands against a wall.

It's one of the few days per year it does rain in Rabanastre, and even Estersand gets part of it.

He kicks a small pool of water with his boot, can feel small shivers run up and down his back, and squints up in the sky, palm steadied over his brow.

Somewhere in the near proximity of the sky – however near Vaan can be to the sky, standing where he is, on the wet streets of Rabanastre – he can hear the rumble of an airship.

Something courses through him, something that isn't rain plastering his hair to his forehead and tangling in his eyelashes annoyingly.

He takes off running, up and down the streets toward the Westgate.

The rain's whipping against Vaan's face and the thought _which idiot'd be out now, flying_ crosses his mind. Vaan himself barely sees inches before him, and he's still on the ground.

He hopes he doesn't hit something.

The thought barely registers, until Vaan's – of course – running into something. Something solid, slippery but lukewarm.

A surprised gasp trips down his lips, as he's none too gently stumbling backwards, the ground disappearing underneath him.

"What even—" is what Vaan can hear through the strumming of the rain in a decidedly Archadian accent.

He spits blood, tongue aching since he bit down on it in the fall.

"Watch were you're going," he mutters, already stumbling up on his feet again, humiliated. _Dammit Vaan, this is a sky pirate_.

"I'd say I'm not the only one who should."

Through the rain that's clearing ever so slightly, Vaan can see the outline of a sharp chin and an arched eyebrow.

"Oh yeah?" Vaan bites back, feeling irritation mix with the heat creeping up his neck.

"Vaan!"

Vaan turns a thirty degrees, surprised to see Kytes out, clothes soaked and hair dripping down his nose and chin.

"Kytes, I'm busy," Vaan hisses, throwing a dirty glance the sky pirates' way. He's not alone anymore, Vaan notes, vaguely surprised at the tall Viera at his side.

"I'm really sorry Vaan, but I was told to come find you, Tomaj really _really_ needs extra help at the tavern!" Kytes stutters out, teeth chattering.

"Fine, I'm coming, don't worry about it," Vaan grouses.

"You are familiar with the tavern's owner?"

Kytes, who's grabbed hold of Vaan and is in the process of pulling him away from the scene, stutters to halt when the Viera speaks.

Vaan nods mutely, still vaguely annoyed. But most of it is swept under the mat at the non-hume. He's never really talked to a Viera before, to be honest. Mostly because they're about as straight spoken as Dalan is, and that on a normal day.

"Yeah, I uh, we're close friends," he gets out, straightening his back, shoulders rammed into proud place.

"By all means, you may lead the way, we're heading that way. Being, _travelers_," the word rolls off of the sky pirate's tongue like it's a mocking, and Vaan frowns, "we're not very familiar with the city's grounds in these weather conditions."

"We'll show you the way, sir," Kytes says, sounding vaguely wondrous. Vaan rolls his eyes, pushing fringe that's matted wetly down his forehead from his eyes, and grunts his agreement.

It wouldn't be the one and only time Vaan'd meet the sky pirate.

* * *

The Imperials are hot on his heels, shouting something that's slurring together from a loose tongue and alcohol, when twilight dawns, reddish clouds coiling around the sky as Vaan pushes faster, faster.

He feels vaguely nauseous from where oxygen can't reach his brain, when he realizes _Dammit, this is the wrong way_. He's running towards the docking field, not down towards the sewers.

It's too late to turn around, even as he realizes that the aerodrome isn't really that much of an ideal place to hide from guards.

As he cants around a corner, Vaan suddenly finds himself snatched up and sprawled against back of a pillar, two slender fingers pressed to his lips.

"I suggest you be quiet, lest you don't want them to find you," the sky pirate says, voice a low murmur, eyebrows arched elegantly.

Vaan frowns, trying to quiet his harsh breathing, as he struggles to break from the man's grasp. He's not stupid.

The sky pirate however, who continues to study Vaan much like he's actually some kind of fascinating creature, keeps his shoulder rammed into the smooth, sun warm stone, and Vaan shuts up and curls slightly into himself as the guards pass in a flurry of loud, annoying voices.

They're looming back not two minutes later, heads snapping up every once in a while, mutters clearly annoyed.

Vaan throws a shit eating smirk at their backs, from underneath the sky pirates' arm.

"No need to thank me," the sky pirate comments dryly, releasing Vaan's shoulder. He slouches surprisedly forward.

He scowls at the taller man. "Why'd you help me, anyway?" he asks, dusting off his knees and knotting his arms over his chest.

The sky pirate looks him over again, his eyes vaguely disapproving. It doesn't help Vaan to change his mind from automatically naming him douchebag, exactly.

"Normally, I wouldn't put myself with common thieves, so let's just say that I, too, have certain... disagreements, with the Empire."

"Figures," Vaan mutters, glaring.

The sky pirate smirks, and when he's gone and left Vaan behind scratching the back of his head, he remembers he doesn't even know the man's name.

* * *

"Balthier," Vaan tastes the name, wondering if that's how you pronounce it. Deciding he doesn't care either way, he thanks Tomaj, who shrugs one shoulder, smiling.

"Anytime, yeah?"

Vaan nods, entwining his fingers behind his head as he walks out of the Sandsea.

He joins up with Penelo at the Southern Plaza. She's sitting on a few steps, elbows thin on her knees, her chin in her palm.

"Vaan, where've you been?" she presses a small hug to his side, looped smile that's knotted with slight worry.

Vaan doesn't roll his eyes, he's well past that stage in life, but he doesn't like it.

He loves Penelo, she's been the only sister he's ever had, the only family who stayed with him, but the dust of worry in her eyes each time she looks at him makes Vaan feel trapped.

Like he's never able to get out of Rabanastre, because Penelo's afraid the sky'll swallow him whole. Vaan doesn't like it when she's worried; he doesn't want to make her worry about _him_.

"I've told you to stop worrying, Penelo. I was running a couple of errands for Tomaj and old Dalan."

She grimaces, like it's that obvious. To Vaan it is.

"I just worry because sometimes, it's like you don't even realize how close it is, each time you pull a stunt like you do."

Vaan looks at her, and she looks back. Defiant, jaw set, long gaze.

"I'm sorry," he replies, eyes on the ground, voice feeling more like a mutter than it is. It's okay, Vaan knows it is. He's a rat, bred on the streets, being okay is practically luxury.

* * *

Sometimes Vaan thinks of Reks.

Not only sometimes, he thinks often of Reks. Thinks he can see his brother there, kind features and a smile that promised to show Vaan the world.

Sometimes, he dreams of his brother's back, out from their house and into war. Carrying a sword at his hip and a buckler over his arm.

Vaan isn't older than he is now, physically. Little bit younger, less white scars on his knees and elbows, less permanent frown in his eyes when it rains or looks grey, more defiance when he runs from Imperials.

This is one of those times.

He's backed up against a wall somewhere near the Muthru Bazaar, fighting against the metal digging into his skin from the Imperial's armor.

"Let me go," he growls, realizes that it goes for deaf ears as the Imperial laughs, its echoes out in the setting city air.

"I don't think so, _rat_, finally got ya, ain't lettin' you off until I've taught you a lesson," the guard snarls, backed up by the other two patrols behind him.

And it isn't anything Vaan can fight, and he knows it. But he doesn't want to, he doesn't want to, as the air is punched out of his lungs, deep from his gut.

He's learned to drown it out, mostly. The words, the taunts. Vaan grits his teeth and takes it and almost wishes he didn't know how to just fucking take it.

Looks up to the sky setting, and can see an airship fly past, cut the endless blue in two.

He'll be there, one day.

* * *

When Vaan for the first time sets his foot inside an airship, it's Balthier's Strahl he's on.

The sky pirate invites him on with a smirk, self assured and confidence in his every move. Vaan grudgingly admires that of him, he thinks.

But as they take off, towards the sky city of Buhjerba, the innards of the Strahl cool and metallic and wondrous to Vaan, the sky is blue and spotless and Penelo is gone.

Vaan realizes that when he sets off, it won't be on his own. He'll never be anything without family.

He meets Balthier's eyes, however briefly, shielded off. This time, there's no smirk on his face. Vaan nods, masking it up to look like he really doesn't.

The sky pirates' eyes linger, and they soar at a level where Vaan's only been in his dreams.


End file.
